


The Only Good Deed the Windows Operating System Has Ever Done (In the Opinion of Anthony Edward Stark)

by viklikesfic (v_angelique)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Humiliation, M/M, Porn Watching, Sharing Fantasies, Size Difference, Steve Rogers Likes Being a Big Dumb Slut, steve rogers has a big dick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:49:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26640151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/v_angelique/pseuds/viklikesfic
Summary: A frozen browser exposes Steve’s porn preferences to Tony. Fortunately, the whole exposed part of the equation is kind of Steve’s thing. Fairly heavy humiliation, in part revolving around Steve’s big dick (cause sure why not), with aftercare. Also, Tony’s dirty talk game is significantly better than the porn.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 25
Kudos: 282





	The Only Good Deed the Windows Operating System Has Ever Done (In the Opinion of Anthony Edward Stark)

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for a Kinktober prompt, then decided not to do Kinktober, but hey, at least this fic exists. The porn, by the way, is at least half stolen from an actual French D/s porn series I watched yeeeears ago. As usual, I absolutely delight in your comments, and am months behind on responding to them. Thanks to everyone who has left feedback and continues to do so! It is my headcanon that Steve Rogers uses Internet Explorer, at least until someone tells him to do otherwise. Possibly because he learned to use the Internet from a tutorial video aimed at old people.

It starts innocently enough. Steve is legitimately having a computer issue, and Tony’s nearby so he goes to the workshop to ask for help. But as Tony’s fingers fly over a multi-key combination, suddenly the browser window Steve had cleverly disguised with Ctrl+H as Natasha taught him pops up again.

“That was hidden!” Steve half-gasps, half-shouts in explanation, diving forward to try to get the cursor to the little red “X” before Tony can notice too many details. Something about his jerky finger movement on the trackpad, though, makes his SHIELD-issued laptop angry, and the browser suddenly freezes as a video starts to autoplay. Steve tries to slam the lid shut but Tony catches his wrist, hard enough that he actually chokes up on the movement. 

“Wait,” Tony demands, low and calm. Steve’s mortified but he freezes anyway. On the screen, a tanned older man is telling a twentysomething twink what a whore he is in French. Steve speaks French. So does Tony. “ _ Putain _ ,” the man in the video growls. “ _ Souche. _ ” The man is wearing leathers, but the boy is naked aside from a thick leather collar. His dick is a lewd shade of dark pink and his eyes are glazed over.

“ _ Oui, maître, _ ” the boy gasps (practically gurgles, his mouth’s so drooly) before the man stuffs his cock down his throat. The boy sucks. The boy moans. He looks completely overcome as he takes dick like it’s his job, squirming on his widespread knees. The man calls him  _ cochon _ and  _ chatte _ ,  _ pute _ and  _ salope _ ,  _ cul négligé  _ and  _ dégueu _ and  _ pédé _ as Steve watches, helpless, the pulse in his wrist thudding quick against Tony’s grip. The man threatens to, as best as Steve can translate, paint the boy’s face like it’s a Matisse. Steve’s dick stiffens in his jeans. Tony’s eyes remain tight on the screen, until he pushes the lid shut and turns to Steve, his voice dark and his pupils blown, despite the control evidenced in the slow way he speaks, maintaining the slight distance between them.

“Is this just a porn thing?” Tony asks. “Or are you actually interested in humiliation?”

Steve’s cheeks flush, probably answering the question. Still. “C’mon,” he mumbles. “It’s not like I’m finding anyone to do… that with.” He gestures vaguely at the screen, and Tony doesn’t budge.

“Uh huh. Now answer the question.”

Tony’s voice is tight with command, and Steve shivers hard. It’s more like a full body jerk, visible. His eyes briefly blink shut. “Both,” he whispers. When he looks up again, Tony’s eyes are sharp with avarice.

“Do you like to humiliate?” Tony asks like he already knows the answer. “Or be humiliated?”

“...that one.” 

“Slut,” Tony bites, just the one word, and Steve’s eyes fall shut again, his body tense. 

“Yes,” he whispers after a beat, encouraging.

“Tell me what you like about it.”

“God, I don’t know, Tony,” Steve gasps, having to talk  _ about _ his kink even more shaming low in his gut and at the root of his balls. “It’s just… I know it’s wrong. It’s degrading,” he mumbles, hesitant, his fingers twitching at his sides. Not sure of where he stands. Tony clearly has no such lack of self-confidence.

“You  _ like _ that,” he accuses, and Steve’s not sure whether Tony’s disgusted or turned on and also not sure it matters. 

“Yes.”

Tony tilts his head to the side. “Do you know what a safeword is, Steve?”

“Yessir,” Steve whispers, mentally  _ begging _ the universe that this be going where he thinks it’s going. He stares at his lap, almost afraid to hope.

“Your safeword is stop. You can use it at any time, including on this entire conversation.”

Steve doesn’t speak. He barely moves. It’s just a minute shake of the head. Tony steps closer. 

“‘No’ or ‘I don’t want it’ or any variation is not a safeword,” Tony declares, low and matter of fact. Steve licks his lips, meets Tony’s gaze, and nods. 

Tony reaches for the laptop again, flips it open, doesn’t touch Steve. He prompts “password,” as if he couldn’t hack the damn thing in seconds, and Steve obligingly pecks the letters and numbers in. Tony opens a browser window, with a black background instead of the normal light grey, and slides the computer closer to Steve. “You’ll go to your suite and send me five examples of porn that you particularly like, which you will open in this window and send with the encrypted messenger app. Ask JARVIS for help if you need it. Then I want you to jerk off while you think of me watching whatever you sent, and come to the penthouse at eight.” The conversation’s obviously over, so Steve swallows, nods, and takes the open device into his hands, heading towards the elevator.

“Oh, and Steve?” Tony interrupts just as the elevator dings, prompting him to rotate on his heel. “Take a shower after. I don’t want you coming into my space already filthy.” 

~*~

Steve almost can’t believe that this is happening to him. It feels like he’s walking through a fog as he steps out of the elevator in the penthouse and finds Tony sitting on a sofa, drinking wine and tapping on his tablet. Tony, who has now seen five of Steve’s most intimately familiar pornographic inspirations. Steve’s  _ kinks _ . Tony doesn’t make any indication of what he’s been up to, though, just lifts his gaze and gives Steve the most  _ dismissive _ look, like he’s insulted. “My time is worth thousands of dollars an hour. You know why you’re here.” Steve flushes, freezes on the spot, and Tony frowns. “Strip,” he commands, voice going harder, and Steve’s hands fly to the hem of his t-shirt, yanking it over his head. “That’s more like it.”

There are no words for how hard it hits Steve that Tony’s words are  _ true _ , that Steve literally isn’t worth Tony’s time. He muffles a gasp with the cotton before letting it fall to the floor. 

As soon as Steve is fully naked, Tony has crossed the open space to him, and suddenly he’s glaring down at Steve’s dick like he’s offended by it. “What the hell am I supposed to  _ do _ with this?” Tony snarls, slapping Steve’s thick erection. He gasps—it both stings more than he would expect from watching that video and gives him a sharper curl of pleasure. “This is fucking useless, it won’t fit anywhere, Jesus.” He grasps the base with his hand and his fingertips don’t quite touch. Steve flushes with an unfamiliar variety of shame and whimpers as he rocks on the balls of his feet. 

“What…” Tony’s eyes widen, and he pulls back to slap the shaft again. “Are you wet  _ already _ ? How fucking challenged can you be, you dumb whore? I said  _ don’t _ be filthy. I think I was pretty clear on that point.” Steve is so, so afraid that he’s going to come all over Tony’s faded Led Zeppelin t-shirt. He grits his teeth and Tony eyes him skeptically. “Did you wash your asshole, at least? I’m not sticking my dick in that if not, and then there will be fuck all we can do.”

“Yes, Sir,” Steve whispers. Tony smirks. 

“Well at least you can do something right.” He gestures Steve over to a little table at one end of the sofa. Steve recognizes the condom packet on the table, though he’s slightly confused when Tony rolls it over  _ his _ dick instead of Tony’s own. Tony reaches for the rubbery-looking black ring and rolls his eyes when he catches Steve’s baffled expression. 

“I don’t want my Italian leather sofa to have stains on it,” Tony snarks, rolling the ring right over the condom, so tight it only fits due to the slide of the lubricant on the latex sheath. “And a slag like you…” Steve gasps. “Is obviously going to keep dripping for it. Am I wrong?” He raises one eyebrow.

“No, Sir,” Steve gasps. 

Tony outright laughs. “You’re  _ made  _ for taking cock, aren’t you?” he teases, just as he grabs Steve by the balls and starts to walk backward, dragging him around in front of the sofa. 

“Oh God,  _ yes _ , Sir,” Steve babbles, feeling like he’s suddenly an actor in one of those blue movies, except that nothing he feels here is false.

“How do you even function?” Tony mutters with derision in his tone, shoving Steve forward so that he lands on his knees, arms gripping the back of the sofa. “Open that ass, now, I don’t have all day.” Tony squirts a couple of pumps of lube from a bottle on the end table onto his fingers, and it’s cold as he jams the tips against Steve’s only partially yielding ring of muscle. “ _ Slut _ ,” Tony adds for emphasis, and Steve’s muscles go to water on a gasp. Tony fucks inside before he can clench up again, quick and dirty, fingers twisting against Steve’s prostate. He squeals and comes hard and premature, flooding the tip of the condom despite the inexorable squeeze at the base of his cock. 

“Pig,” Tony snarls in his ear, yanking his fingers out and pressing at the now almost lax furl of Steve’s sphincter with the head of his cock. Steve whimpers, bearing down and trying to twist back to see him, glimpse Tony’s face as he goes through the aftershocks. Tony meets his eyes for just one drawn-out moment, before his hand clamps on the back of Steve’s neck and shoves Steve’s head down. “Stop that. You’re not here because I like your  _ face _ .” Steve can’t stop whimpering, his cock twitching painfully against the sofa, the latex chafing a bit. The tip of his cock squelches in the little puddle of his come and Tony bites the back of Steve’s neck as he thrusts. 

“If I wanted a goddamned boyfriend experience,” Tony growls in Steve’s ear as he starts to speed up. “Then I could buy one. Don’t worry, I paid nothing for you, so I know to expect…”

“ _ Nothing _ ,” Steve gasps, frantic, his upper body slumped over as Tony uses his ass, thrusts rough and careless. He feels high, useless, degraded, everything he’s dreamed of but never,  _ never _ thought to actually ask for. And he didn’t ask, he reminds himself. He didn’t even have the balls to ask. He shudders and moans, his ass clenching. 

“Yeahhh. I know you want my load in you, princess,” Tony purrs, just before he comes. Steve cries a few cathartic tears, still slumped over the back of the sofa as Tony’s hips start to slow. “Don’t you dare let it leak,” Tony whispers in Steve’s ear, answering his question about whether Tony would keep the play going after his orgasm. Steve feels this kind of aching relief, something deep and greedy inside him soothed by the validation. He shakes his head and clamps down as Tony slowly pulls out. It’s only a moment before something blunt but smoother than Tony’s cockhead is pressing against his clenched hole. 

“There you go, comehole,” Tony soothes, condescending, as Steve relaxes to let the fat plug inside. “Just relax, your ass knows what to do.” Steve sighs happily, sucking the whole thing in, but as soon as the base is seated there’s cool air at his back, the sounds of Tony righting his clothing and immediately going to the kitchen area to wash his hands. 

Steve swallows, blinks and shifts slowly to standing, his muscles shaking slightly as he wobbles over towards the elevators and puts his own clothes back on. Tony ignores Steve even as he scrubs his hands for nearly a full minute, frowning at the nails. Steve blushes at the implication, tossing the condom in a garbage bin and blushing at the feeling of damp in his briefs where his messy cock has stained them.

“Um… the toys, should I…?” 

Tony turns the taps, dries his hands, and sneers a little at Steve.

“They’re yours, now.” The suggestion of their uncleanliness is clear. Steve bites his lip, tucks the cockring in his front pocket, and starts to turn towards the elevator. But Tony meets him just before he can push the button or ask JARVIS to open the doors, leaning in close and tipping his chin up to murmur near Steve’s ear. 

“Listen to me closely. You’re going to go back to your apartment, get in the shower, and let my come leak out of that tender hole. I don’t care what you do with this thing,” he adds, lightly slapping at Steve’s crotch. “It’s irrelevant.” 

Steve gasps and practically falls into the elevator car as the doors slide open to a gesture. Tony’s already turning away when he makes it.

“JARVIS?” Steve calls out, knowing that his voice is breathy and too high-pitched but not able to modify it. “My floor.”

“Yes, Captain,” the AI replies, and it sounds wrong somehow. As soon as the elevator stops, Steve’s rushing into his apartment, to the master bathroom, where he immediately bends over the built-in shower bench. There’s no shame as he perches on one forearm, shoves his pants and underwear down, and reaches back to ease the plug out of his body even as he’s kicking the clothing away. Steve listened closely, as he was told. Tony didn’t say a thing about  _ running _ the shower, did he? His second orgasm of the night is much different in sensation, a flush of pure almost diffuse pleasure as he yanks the silicone free. The heavy plug tugs against his rim from the inside, then pops loose with a rush of Tony’s come down his thigh. Steve’s shouting, flooding the bench with come, and he completely loses his balance when he’s done, slumping hard onto the shower floor.

“Wow,” a masculine voice murmurs from the doorway, too low for a baseline human to hear and softly affectionate in contrast to its tone for the last half hour. “Do you normally manage two in a row in that kind of time, and hands-free?” Tony chuckles, his bare footfalls announcing his entrance into the bathroom before he squats down and tosses Steve’s clothing out of the shower cabin, reaching out to fondly caress Steve’s cheek. “I’m impressed.”

Steve shakes his head, feeling fuzzy, and finding himself strangely non-verbal. He can’t make himself explain the nuance, how the serum makes him more sensitive but he doesn’t normally bother to take advantage like this. Tony gives him a fond little smile and leans in to fit his mouth against Steve’s. Steve notes in a kind of distant way, as their mouths move together, that he likes the feel of facial hair against his lips and chin more than he would’ve guessed. 

“No, I suppose I can assume myself to be an exception,” Tony teases, pulling Steve’s t-shirt, stained hem and all, over his head and tossing it back with the pants. “J, let’s make it hot as we can stand as a pair, hard rainfall,” he adds, once he’s helped Steve to awkwardly scuttle up onto the bench again, butt-first this time. Tony steps back and the spray jets out in a diffuse, but high-pressure pattern, over Steve’s body and the rest of the shower cabin as he watches Tony quickly strip and then step back into the wet zone with him. 

“Aftercare time, sweetheart,” Tony coos by way of explanation as he grabs a bar of Ivory soap and settles onto the bench next to Steve. “Next time, though, we’re doing it upstairs, geez, haven’t you heard of body wash?” Steve smiles, a little dopily, as Tony lathers up both Steve’s body and the semen-sprayed bench, continuing to babble about appropriate bath products and drop idle kisses onto slick skin. Steve relaxes against the wall and decides that’s more or less explicit permission to float. 

  
  
  


  
  
  



End file.
